


What Comes After

by Listentothelittlebird



Series: Code Bat [13]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Damian Wayne Has Feelings, Damian Wayne Has Friends, Gala in the Manor, Gen, Mentions of canonical character not-death, Not Canon Compliant, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listentothelittlebird/pseuds/Listentothelittlebird
Summary: With Damian’s return to Gotham comes returning to the legally alive.He also gets a new brother, who doesn’t seem to realise that he has already been accepted into the family.At the gala celebrating his return from the dead, Damian encounters a familiar face.
Relationships: Damian Wayne & Colin Wilkes, Damian Wayne & Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne & Duke Thomas
Series: Code Bat [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964452
Comments: 27
Kudos: 499





	What Comes After

It’s Damian’s first gala since his return.

Grayson had completed his Spyral mission and managed to hide his secret identity again in the process, and was currently fussing over Damian’s suit with the insistence of an apologetic older brother.

“Grayson,” Damian finally spoke up, as his brother patted down his black suit jacket for a third time, “I know how to dress for galas. Plus, I don’t think repetitive movements are likely to achieve different results.”

Grayson had the decency to look sheepish, but then he was wrapping Damian in a tight hug that lifted him off his feet. “I missed you, you know?” he murmured quietly into Damian’s hair.

Damian sighed, and twisted until his cheek was pressed against his. “You’ve told me that at least five times today,” Damian was aiming for a dry tone, but he could hear his own amused fondness. Grayson grinned, and there was a tinge of smugness at having caught Damian’s true emotions.

“You still have yet to tell me about all your adventures.” Grayson commented as he finally set Damian down, “Why don’t we hang out tomorrow? We can go anywhere you want. I feel like we both have a lot of catching up to do.”

Damian huffed, “I will think about it. I do not have many places I want to be, at the moment.”

Especially with all the news coverage on his return from beyond the grave, anywhere Damian went in public was just asking to be ambushed by the press. 

The official story was that he had disappeared with his mother, and the body that was buried was a clever decoy made by the woman for Father to find. Damian had managed to run away from his mother and find his way back to Gotham. It was all a carefully-crafted lie.

As if Talia cared enough to take him back in.

“I’ll be with you soon,” Damian shooed Grayson out and down the corridor, “You can stop smothering me.” Damian waited until Grayson’s back was turned to smile, then turned and paced in the other direction.

“Ready to be un-zombified?” Todd snickered, nudging Damian as he brushed past. Damian did not understand why Todd was around in the Manor for the gala, but there was a nagging thought he was willfully ignoring that the man was trying to offer his own form of support. 

“Yes, unlike you,” Damian snarked, “You have become used to messing with the paparazzi while legally dead, haven’t you?”

Todd’s smirk was all the answer Damian needed. 

On and off, there were always conspiracy theories popping up about Jason Todd being found in various places in Gotham. Todd never let himself be caught at places that could be connected to the Waynes, though, and whenever the articles came up what followed was a vicious backlashing for “disrespecting the deceased”. Todd revelled in the drama.

“Where ya going?” Todd called at him, as he continued walking away, “Stairs are the other way! Bruce wants us all to meet there.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Damian repeated, not once breaking his pace.

Just as he had suspected, Duke Thomas was still in his room, fussing over his bow tie with an uncomfortable frown. His room was barren except for the journal on his desk, the backpack by his bedside and the Robin jacket slung over the chair. It had been a week since he had moved in, and yet it still looked like he was ready to run at any moment.

“Thomas,” Damian greeted, and inwardly cringed when Thomas startled. He would have to make himself known more easily, just until Thomas was able to sense when a Bat was near. It would be rather unpleasant for him, to be constantly surprised by the Manor’s residents.

“Oh! Hey, Damian,” Thomas rubbed at the back of his neck, a nervous tick, “What’s up? Is the gala starting already?” there was a nervous inflection to his voice.

“You have no need to be concerned,” Damian pointed out, “The general public will be much more interested in swarming me. You’ll go largely unnoticed, just so long as you don’t draw attention to yourself.”

Thomas blinked at him, apparently not having expected his words. Damian huffed, “If they do bother you, Thomas, I’m sure the whole family will be watching out. We’ve learnt how to extricate ourselves and each other from unpleasant circumstances.”

“Oh,” Thomas mumbled, still looking relatively lost. Damian pursed his lips. It was...difficult to welcome a new person to the life that they led. 

Then again, when Damian first came, he was just as lost, just as new to the more public parts of being in the Wayne family.

“I didn’t know that signing up for Bat-training would include, well,” Thomas gestured lamely to his suit, “I guess I never really thought about what you guys have to do, to keep yourselves separate from your night jobs.”

Thomas smiled wryly, “Can I stop doing these things once my training’s finished?” 

Thomas expected to be kicked out once he was Gotham-ready, Damian realised. Was that why his room was still so unpersonalised? 

Damian huffed out something like an exasperated sigh. “It’ll be a long time before you’ll find a reason to skip these events, Thomas,” Damian chose to reply, “Even Grayson only misses such dreaded occasions if he is injured or on a mission.”

Thomas frowned in confusion, a protest on his lips, but Damian cut him off, “In case you haven’t realised already, Father has a habit of gathering strays. It’s why I have so many siblings.”

Damian turned, letting Thomas come to his own conclusions, “We have delayed the others for long enough. Come, it’s about time for the gala to begin.”

Drake was idling outside the door when Damian emerged. He looked like he was surpressing a smile.

“Shut up,” Damian murmured, glaring ahead but still walking in step beside Drake. Moments later, Thomas’ hesitant steps emerged from his room, following behind them.

“I didn’t say anything,” Drake replied innocently. There was something like pride in his eyes. 

Damian, slowly but surely, was learning to read his family’s silent messages.

“Why isn’t Jason out with Stephanie and Cassandra?” Thomas questioned softly, as they descended the stairs and found said person leaning against the banister at the bottom of the steps, entertaining an animated Grayson.

“Steph and Cass can handle themselves,” Drake responded flippantly, “Plus, the Birds of Prey run separately from us. No, they don’t know about us. They suspect, but they don’t have any confirmations.”

“Gotham vigilantes are _whack_ ,” Thomas mumbled to himself. Damian and Drake gave matching snorts.

~

Damian was unpracticed, and yet the mannerisms that came from both Grayson and Father came to him easily, like a reawakened instinct.

He smiled pleasantly at all the socialites digging around like hungry pigs, searching for some perceived gold that the youngest of the Wayne family would spill out into the gossip rags. Damian was better than that: he has been better, ever since he received a second chance at life.

He feels new and old, some weird nostalgia of practiced motions coupled with the maturity from many, many adventures.

He found himself looking out for Thomas, watching his body language in the way that Cain had taught him, ready to intervene if he was too uncomfortable, if he was pressed too far by the sharks circling about the ballroom. 

He smirked whenever his brothers stepped in before he could. It felt like they were taking turns, Todd spilling wine over a dress of a particularly annoying guest, Grayson cutting in smoothly to lead Thomas away, Drake distracting them long enough for Thomas to sneak off. 

Damian, barging in with the kind of childish arrogance granted to kids his age, dragging Thomas off without concern for the bemused stares. Showing him corners where he could hide, hiding spots that were used often by Cain whenever the gala became too much for her.

It was well into the night when Damian retired to a side room for a short breather.

“Damian?”

Damian froze, and when he turned, it was with the speed of a Robin rather than with a young rich kid’s careful elegance. 

The boy’s red hair was already falling out of its careful tidiness. The boy’s suit was new and decent, but rumpled from constant fiddling. He still had a damned bandaid on his face.

“Colin?” Damian barely noted his friend’s surprise before he was moving. Colin tensed when Damian practically charged into him, but when he realised it was a hug, his arms wrapped around Damian just as tightly.

“You’ve grown,” was all Damian managed, from where his chin rested on Colin Wilkes’ shoulder. Colin laughed tightly, a short and shaky sound.

“And you haven’t,” he teased, though it sounded weak. His next words were barely above a whisper, “You- you really did die, didn’t you? I know real grief when I see it, and when your dad came to me, I…” 

Batman must have known they were keeping in contact, on and off. It was not very frequent, but it was frequent enough for Damian to consider the boy a friend.

Colin was his first friend, without a doubt.

Damian squeezed Colin one final time before releasing him. “I did,” Damian confirmed, watching a mess of emotions flash through his friend’s eyes, “But I’m back, now. I’m back.”

Colin rubbed furiously at his eyes and gave a loud sniff. “Okay,” he sighed out, “Okay.”

When he looked up, he smiled, “It’s so good to see you. And I feel like I should get an award for being called by my first name.”

Damian finally registered the change and huffed, trying to cover up his embarrassment and ignore the flush of his cheeks. “It felt appropriate for the moment,” Damian murmured, but Colin just laughed.

“I-” Damian started, before he could stop himself, “I’m sorry. That I didn’t tell you I was alive. You shouldn’t have needed to find out from the news-“

“Shut up,” Colin cut in, and dove in for a second hug. Damian clamped his mouth shut, and he was silently glad his brothers were not here to witness him being… soft.

“Colin? Are you in here?” 

The boys broke apart and turned to an older man, moving with sprightly steps and kindness in his eyes. He was slightly above Father’s age. He smiled warmly at the duo. “Ah. You found him?”

“Yup!” Colin chirped, and gestured to the man while hesitantly meeting Damian’s eye, “Damian, this is… my adoptive dad. His name’s Patrick Evans.”

Colin smiled at the gobsmacked look Damian made, “Yeah, I know. Finally got along with my foster parents. Carol Evans is my adoptive mom - she’s at home. I wanted to tell you when I got adopted but…” Colin gestured helplessly, and Damian understood. 

He was glad that, if he had stayed dead, his friend would have had people to help him move on.

“Mr Evans,” Damian stepped forward and extended a hand formally, “A pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s my pleasure to meet _you_ , young man,” Evans smiled, “Colin was shell-shocked when he found out you were alive. He bawled his eyes out when he heard the news report.”

“Pat!” Colin whined, dragging out the word. It hurt to know Damian had missed such a development in Colin’s life, that he wasn’t there to support him, but it looked like it had turned out well for him. Damian was happy for him.

“We should meet up,” Damian announced, “We have much to catch up on.”

“Or,” Colin grabbed Damian’s wrist, grin spread wide on his face, “We can ditch the gala. I’ve never seen your room, and I feel like you owe me at least that. C’mon, I’m sure your dad won’t mind!”

That Father might mind, Damian kept to himself. Though, as Damian led Colin out of the ballroom, he had caught Father’s eye. His socialite smile had flickered to a genuine one for a moment before he turned back to his conversation. That was as much consent as he needed.

“We’ll head to my room, then, since you want to see it so much,” Damian stated, and was nearly tugging his friend along, “Will your father mind you staying over?”

“Seriously?”

“There’s more than enough room for a sleepover, Colin.”

Colin smiled smugly, and this time Damian opted to ignore his slip. Perhaps it was time to get used to using first names. “Yeah, okay,” Colin agreed, typing rapidly on his phone as they slipped into Damian’s bedroom.

“Now then, tell me the _real_ story.”

Damian gave a rare, excited grin, and began to speak.

**Author's Note:**

> Damian deserves to have friends and be mushy!
> 
> Edit: 
> 
> For consistency, I edited the fic so that Damian refers to his family by their last names only, and Colin gets to be special.
> 
> My reasoning is that Damian referring to his family by their last names has changed from mockery to a fond nickname that only he uses to refer to them, so they’re set apart from him using the last names of people he isn’t that close to.
> 
> However, when Damian thinks of his friends a lot, he uses their first names. That’s why he slipped and said Colin.
> 
> (I should probably include this explanation in a fic somewhere, but oh well :P)


End file.
